


under me you quite so new

by engmaresh



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:41:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: “How would you feel about me...” Kuvira says slowly, sliding her hand down between their bodies, “...fucking you.”"Um..." Baatar’s gaze ticks up as he considers her offer. “Okay.” A heartbeat later. “Wait,now?”





	under me you quite so new

Sweat is drying on their bodies, and she’s going to have to get up soon if they don’t want to get glued together. But Kuvira’s not ready to move yet. She likes these intimate moments together, when her brain’s still too fuzzy from pleasure to worry about matters of state and the like. When things are quiet.

She raises herself up on one elbow to peer down at Baatar. He’s dozing, and simply leans into her touch when she runs her finger down the side of his cheek, against the grain of his stubble.

“Baatar?”

“Hmmm?” He turns to her, already half asleep, gazing at her from under hooded eyes. Kuvira lays her head on his chest. His heart beats steadily under her ear.

“Would you—how would you feel about me fucking you?”

“What?” he asks muzzily.

“Me...” Kuvira says slowly, sliding her hand down between their bodies where they’re both still tacky with mingled fluids. “...fucking you.” She reaches down past his balls, runs her thumb over his perineum, presses. Eyes flying open, his legs twitch under hers. 

“Um.” His eyes are wide, his pupils large in the dim light. He’s taken off his glasses—she’s never sure of how much of her he can see when he does. What he sees when he looks at her like this. 

Baatar’s gaze ticks up as he considers her offer, his hand coming up over her shoulders, sliding under the heavy fall of her hair to stroke the nape of her neck. Then he shrugs minutely, and his eyes slide closed.

“Okay.”

A heartbeat later—and she can hear it pick up for a second—they pop open again. “Wait, _ now_ ?"

“N-no,” she finds herself stammering, pushing herself up on his chest, somewhat taken aback at his easy agreement. “Next time?”

“Okay, good.” And he closes his eyes again.

Alright, then.

* * *

Kuvira doesn’t really plan for it. She’d brought it up, he’s said yes, but it’s not like she’s about to pencil into her planner _ fuck my fiance today_. She’s still surprised he said yes so easily, and is pretty sure there’s some story behind it. She suspects Ba Sing Se. All of Baatar’s wild stories are from his semester abroad in Ba Sing Se.

So she’s not really expecting anything when she walks into her tent one evening after a shower. But Baatar’s there, not reading at her desk or napping on her bed, but rather he’s dressed only in a towel, one leg up on her chair, one hand braced on her desk, the other...somewhere. He squeaks in alarm at her entrance, a sound she’s never heard him make before, a blush immediately suffusing him from face down to chest. 

“Uhhh,” Kuvira says. His embarrassment makes her feel wrongfooted, like she’s the one in the wrong tent. Not sure if she should avert her eyes, she looks at the map over her desk instead. Never have the tributaries of the Sungai River in the Northeastern Earth Empire ever been so fascinating.

“What are you doing?” she addresses the river.

“I’m prepping—” Baatar’s voice is strangled. “Get out.”

The demand annoys her enough that she pulls her gaze away to meet his eyes. “This is _ my _ tent.” They don’t share tents, both for reasons of security and propriety. Though by now the second point’s pretty moot; everyone knows they’re engaged. Still, Kuvira has an image to convey and a reputation to protect. It’s bad enough that she’s already in a relationship with a subordinate even if Baatar’s just one arbitrary rank below hers, and the Beifong name, for all it’s privilege, carries with it a notoriety for nepotism. 

“I didn’t want to—” Baatar gestures with his free hand, his voice still sounding like he’s having the air partially bent out of his lungs. Kuvira notices the small bottle on her desk, puts two and two together, and realises what he’s doing.

“Oh. _ Oh_.” Now it’s her turn to blush, but with it comes a surge of heat that pools low in her belly.

“_Yes_,” Baatar says pointedly, eyebrows rising in emphasis. “Some privacy please.”

“Really?” Kuvira scoffs, recovering quickly, though her face still feels hot. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, privacy defeats the point.”

“I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” he complains. A wince crosses his face. “At least turn around.”

“Oh fine,” Kuvira mutters, rolling her eyes. She has to go find her strap-on anyway. It’s not the kind of thing one would bring to a war, but when she’d left Zaofu she’d taken everything with her, and it’d somehow stayed with her since, tucked away at the bottom of her duffle. As she disrobes and slides on the harness, she’s reminded of her first time doing this. Qiu Hua, her first girlfriend, had picked it out, smooth, silvery, with adequate heft and size. Qiu Hua had later dumped Kuvira for her best friend. Last Kuvira's heard, they’d been engaged. With an unexpected pang in her chest, she wonders what Hua’s doing now. She’s probably still in Zaofu, and Kuvira tries hard not to think about Zaofu when she can.

Hastily shaking the memory from her thoughts, she turns back to Baatar. As she’d gotten ready, he’s moved from the desk to the bed, lying back with his feet braced on the edge. He glances over as she turns, and his eyes fly from directly from her face to the fake cock between her legs. Another flush suffuses his face. 

“You’re so red.” The teasing words slip out of her easily, covering up how conscious she suddenly is of the new weight in front of her, the way the strap between her legs rides up against her cunt. Walking forward, the cock bobs before her, and every step seems ungainly and awkward. The intensity of his gaze doesn’t help, as she shakes her hair down over her face in the hopes of hiding how it’s affecting her. 

Under the circumstances, she strikes the sexy crawl onto the bed from her plan, and flops down next to him instead, letting the bounce of the mattress carry her closer. Kuvira rolls into him, tucking her face into his neck. Baatar smells fresh, clean, under the scent of skin and soap the faint lingering ozone that he carries with him from his workshop. Her cock brushes against his hip, and she feels him shiver.

“So you’ve done this before,” she says, propping herself up on one elbow, pushing aside her own growing arousal for now.

“Um…” he begins, and the way he’s not meeting her eyes tell her she already knows the answer.

“Ba Sing Se?”

“Are you really that surprised?”

“What have you _ not _ done in Ba Sing Se?”she says with a laugh, pushing herself up and climbing over one of his legs to kneel between them. The stupid towel’s still wrapped around his hips, bunched up under one thigh and she wrestles it away, throwing it to a corner of the bed. The bottle of oil lies leaking onto the sheets. Frowning, Kuvira picks up the bottle and slicks up her hand, before balancing it carefully on Baatar’s trembling stomach.

“Legs apart,” she says, trying very hard to keep a commanding tone out of her voice, but she fails anyway, because Baatar once again goes a deep shade of red, reaches up and pulls one of the pillows over his face. But he does spread his legs, only for Kuvira to find herself at a sudden loss.

“Um, Baatar.” She taps his thigh, noting how it makes the muscles under his skin spasm. “I’ve only done this with girls.”

This gets her a muffled groan from under the pillow, before she finds it flung into her face. She manages to bat it away, almost falling off the bed when the mattress shifts under her as he sits up.

“I knew it,” Baatar mutters, wresting the bottle out of her hands. “That’s why I wanted to do it.”

She can tell he’s embarrassed by the thought of her watching him open himself up so she tucks herself back into his side. With her oily hand, she traces snippets of poetry across his ribs. The words gleam in the light as he shifts.

“What are you writing?” she hears him murmur against her hair. “Property of Kuvira?” His voice is rough, catching in the back of his throat.

Kuvira laughs softly. “Never.” Elbowing up, she peers down at him. His face is flushed. There’s wetness rimming his eyes, trickling back into his hairline. She chases after a trail with the tip of her tongue. “You good?”

“Mmmm. Intense.” He sounds drunk, reaching for her so he can kiss her like a drowning man, wet, open-mouthed and sloppy in a way he usually isn’t. His hand trails down until its pressing into the small of her back and she’s grinding her fake cock into his hip. The friction of its straps, the base against her clit, the heat of his hand searing her skin—it’s all driving her mad.

“You should be ready by now,” she huffs against his lips, trailing her hand, still slick with oil, down his stomach to his cock. He’s already more than half-hard, but she reaches behind, feels for his hand where he’s fingering himself open, runs the pad of her thumb over the stretched rim of his hole.

“Fuck,” he groans into her mouth, hips bucking up, fucking air. “Yes, _ please_.”

Kuvira presses a parting kiss to his cheek, and scrambles back down again between his legs. They immediately close around her, keeping her in place. Everything is slick and slippery between them, and Baatar shifts impatiently as she struggles to roll a condom over the toy.

Then she’s ready. “You have to tell me if it gets too much.” One hand on his hip, the other on his knee, keeping him spread. She can feel him tremble beneath her, and damn if that doesn’t make her wetter.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters, reaching down to grab her thighs. He keeps them there the whole time, fingers flexing into her flesh as she presses slowly into him. 

“Shit.” His mouth falls open as he groans, eyes fluttering and Kuvira can’t look away. Something in the moment feels breakable, makes her breath catch in her throat. She pushes in slow as she can, until the muscles of her thighs ache from the strain. Goes until she can’t anymore, then she lets herself fall forward on top of him, catching herself with her hands on either side of his face.

“Hey,” she says gently. His face is half hidden by the fall of her hair. “How do you feel?”

“Unh,” is all Baatar manages. Moisture glints at the corners of his eyes; his teeth flash white, digging into his bottom lip. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.”

“No,” he blurts out, a touch of desperation to his voice. “It’s just...been a while. Weird flashbacks. Stuff.”

Concerned, she sits up slightly, trying to shift her hips as little as possible. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really,” he says. “Feels good.” His legs tighten around her waist as he hitches them higher. She strokes her hands down the insides of his thighs, fits her thumbs into the V of his hips, avoiding his cock. It’s not that the perspective is new, but it’s...different.

“Are you waiting for a graven invitation?” Baatar groans, throwing one arm over his face. “_Move_.”

She manages to catch his eye, a sliver of green under his arm, pupil blown wide. “Okay,” she says, more to herself, smoothing her hands up the planes his stomach as she drags her hips back, pinching his nipples where she knows he’s sensitive. The little desperate whine he makes is beautiful, and she grinds a little against him as she pushes back in, shuddering through a sudden clench of arousal.

Baatar breathes another long, drawn out “Fuck,” his fingers digging into her thigh. She takes him in hand, now fully hard, already beginning to leak onto his stomach. When she rolls her hips against his, the movement pushes his cock through her loose fist.

“Ku—” he gasps, unable to choke out her full name. His free hand clenches and unclenches. He’s so close, and Kuvira thinks she might be too, just from watching.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

She tilts her hips up, and she’s not sure if she’s got the angle right, but suddenly Baatar sucks in a huge breath that seems to stick in his throat, mouth slackening with pleasure. One leg flails out, knee thumping into her shoulder and she grabs it, keeps it there. He comes then, in slick pulses over his stomach, over her hand. The hand on her thigh grabs her tight enough she knows she’ll have bruises in the morning. 

His arm slips away from his face, reaching up to grab the sheets, and Kuvira finds that she has to look away. She turns her face into his knee, presses her teeth against the meat of his calf as she shudders along with his aftershocks, with the sudden frantic pounding of her heart. 

She stays that way, holding on, even after he stills. Only when his fingers pry themselves free of her thigh, slide between their bodies where they’re still joined, does she stir. 

“You didn’t come,” Baatar mumbles, his hands scrabbling uselessly at her harness. 

“Leave it,” Kuvira tells him, nudging his hand away before wiping hers on the sheet. He looks wrecked. And something inside her feels tender, shaken-apart; for now she’s content to tend it without the distraction of an orgasm. Carefully, she lowers his knee from her shoulder and he grunts. “You’ll make it up to me tomorrow.”

He hisses as she pulls out, loosening the straps of the harness just enough that she can wriggle it off and kick it aside. As she crawls up his body, his arms come up around her, holding her against his side. This lets her bury her face in his shoulder, where he cannot see her.

“Are you sure I can’t—?” Baatar asks again, one hand wandering down the curve of her ass, but she shakes her head and it returns to her waist.

“How was it?” she murmurs, letting her hand wander blindly up the side of his face.

“Good. Very good.” She can feel Baatar turn into her, breath whispering over the top of her head. “We can do that again sometime. If you want to.”

Kuvira brushes her fingers gently across his cheek, down the bridge of his nose. When she raises her head slightly to see him, his eyes are clear. He looks content, smiling a little as he leans into the kiss she presses to his lips.

“I’d very much like that,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

> So this video (_[What Your Favorite Avatar Ship Says About You](https://doubleca5t.tumblr.com/post/186588219112/re-uploaded-because-the-original-had-a-typo-what)_) made the rounds when I started working on this again, and ngl, I felt a little called out.
> 
> Title from the e.e. cumming's poem "i like my body when it is with your".


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